Why self-love isn’t selfishness –
and why I’ve come to prefer staying true to myself.
It was an ordinary afternoon when I came across a post by a woman I deeply admire.
Asha Ospelt, coach and author, had put a question out into the world that stopped me mid-scroll:
“Everyone talks about self-love. Doesn’t that just leave us with a world full of egoists?”
I smiled. And at the same time, something in me went very quiet.
Because I know this question.
From the inside.
A phrase that shaped everything
Somewhere in my two- or three-year-old mind, a sentence took root.
I don’t remember exactly when it was said, or by whom, or in what moment. But it was there. Fixed. Deep.
“You’re such a little egoist.”
Children don’t hear words like these as opinions. They take them as truth.
And so, a fleeting moment turned into a belief that stayed with me for years – quiet, invisible, powerful.
It whispered whenever I wanted to say no: That would be selfish.
It spoke up whenever I felt my own needs: Don’t make such a fuss.
And again and again, it made me cross my own boundaries.
Not because I wanted to. But because I was afraid of becoming what that sentence described.
An egoist.
The price of putting yourself last
I didn’t question that belief. Not for a long time.
Instead, I functioned. I gave. I performed. I cared for everyone else.
Until my body said: enough.
My burnout wasn’t a sign of weakness.
Today, I also see it as the result of giving too much for too long
and losing connection with myself along the way.
At some point, my body spoke the words I hadn’t been able to say for far too long:
My needs matter, too.
In the silence that followed, I began, for the first time, to really look.
At the sentence. At what it had done inside me.
At the question of whether it was even true.
Whether self-love really is selfishness.
What self-love actually means
Asha put it so clearly on one of the slides in her post that I want to share her words here in translation:
Self-love comes from empathy. It means valuing yourself – without harming anyone else.
Exactly that.
Selfishness puts our own interests first, even at the expense of others.
Self-love honours our own needs without making anyone else’s less important.
That’s a fundamental difference – and one I’ve felt in my own body.
When I learned to truly see myself – my limits, my needs, my exhaustion – I didn’t become less caring.
I became more honest. With myself and with others. More present.
And I was able to give without disappearing.
Staying true to yourself is not the opposite of love
There’s a word I’ve come to like even more than self-love these days.
Not because self-love is wrong. But because, for me, it describes something that goes a little deeper:
Selbsttreue: staying true to yourself.
Staying true to yourself means knowing who you are. What you need. What matters to you.
And living accordingly – even when it’s uncomfortable.
Even when others might misunderstand it or not approve.
Staying true to yourself isn’t the opposite of love.
It’s the ground it stands on.
Because how can you really be there for others if you don’t know who you are?
How can you give what you refuse yourself?
How can you show someone how to treat you if you don’t know your own worth?
For you
Maybe you know a sentence like this, too.
Not necessarily “You’re such an egoist.” It can take many shapes.
Don’t make such a fuss.
Don’t take yourself so seriously.
Other people’s situation is much worse.
And maybe, a sentence like this taught you to put yourself last, over and over again.
To give until there was nothing left.
Then this is for you.
Not as a call to drop everything and think only of yourself.
But as a quiet invitation to ask:
What would change if you started being true to yourself?
Not against others.
But finally – for you, too.
Your Takeaway:
You don’t have to choose between caring for others and being true to yourself.
There is room for both.
If you’d like to take this a step further …
Self-Loyalty Check – How true to yourself are you, right now?
Available in German only.